A Court of Glass
by jwootan02
Summary: When Amren learns of the revival of Mala Fire Bringer, she summons her and her court to Prythian to form an alliance that transcends their two worlds. But is Aelin ready accept a role as a God? Only together can they take down Erawan, King Hybern, Maeve, and (most importantly) Tamlin. - Feysand. Rowaelin. *DROWNING IN EOS AND ACOMAF SPOILERS*
1. Chapter 1

It finally happened. After all these years, Amren immediately felt the tear through her chest into another world. She felt the power slicing through the ancient stone she'd forgotten the name of and straight into her being. In an instant her eyes flashed and then she was somewhere else.

In a body that was not her body.

There was an ocean around here, melee and chaos on her ship. She could feel the beasts beneath the water at war and the power in the bodies that surrounded her. The power in the new flesh she'd taken on. Gods, this power. It was endless fire and with Amren in control it blazed from wildfire into her own moonfire.

This wasn't exactly the freedom she'd longed for, but it would do. She laughed to herself, feeling the body's owner push against her hopelessly. The sun was so hot here, the waters nearly tropical. The rush of the freshness, the power, was nearly overwhelming.

Her body's hand was outstretched, waiting to explode with her raging moonfire and the desire for blood was a siren's call Amren couldn't quite refuse in this world. She heard the sounds of innocents behind her and turned.

The moonfire burned its release and Amren noted the body flinging itself in front of her. Meaningless, she thought, but then the body reacted.

 _Rowan,_ she heard from within.

Amren growled. She knew now, even as power flew from her fingertips, her time in this body was now limited. She'd known of this feeling - these kinds of bonds. This was inescapable, even for her. This body would not hurt that male.

She felt the host's power build, taking back her body with the fuel of the legendary bond, and Amren cursed this girl.

Cursed her until she realized who she was.

 _Oh, Mala._

* * *

Instantly she was back in her Prythian body, this tart little thing that had grown homey. It might have been strong, stronger with magic than any other she'd known on this continent, but there was something about being in that body - Mala's body.

Mala, Lady of Light, Learning, and Fire.

She knew the host body wasn't the original Mala, but it was Mala all the same. Quite a young Mala… A Mala that might still be learning herself, still need allies in her battles…

Amren thought of Feyre at the Spring Court, on her own in enemy territory. Practically still in Hybern's clutches. The king possessed the Cauldron. He'd turned Feyre's sisters into fae. He'd destroyed Cassian's wings. He'd nearly killed Azriel. He'd immobilized the strongest High Lord in the history of Prythian…

She threw out her senses, feeling the power levels of all those around her, searching for Rhysand and the rest of the court. There was a possibility they might agree to her plan, but not to the toll that performing it might take on herself. No one who could stop her was near, but she would leave that sense open as long as she could.

Her apartment was messy around her, books on counters and papers on the floor. She ran to her main room and started shoving furniture against the walls. She flipped her coffee table, tossing it aside and yanked her rug off into a corner. She didn't stop until she had enough space.

Making sure the others were still far off, she started her chant letting the glamour of her eyes fall until they lit the room around her. She reached for a knife from its block in her kitchen before marching back onto the marble of her living room with bare feet.

Still only in the first verse, she drew the knife over her wrist and let the blood begin to spill, red at first, then gold. It painted the floor around her feet and she began to draw. The ancient marks weren't as foreign as she'd led everyone to believe, but they were more powerful than they could have ever grasped so she kept that to herself. Her symbols weaved and danced together and her circle formed piece by piece, outlining the entire room.

Her tangible body had begun shaking after she'd passed the halfway point, her voice sickly splitting in two. Golden blood still melted from her wrist and began to spill from her nose. A potent wind lifted through her hair and her eyes felt like fire.

The room grew dark, shadows swimming through the stormy winds, lightning of massive powers in all shapes and colors appeared. Faintly, she felt Rhysand assembling the others to come to her aid. Rhysand could feel the evil magic.

And just as she felt the presence of her friends, her chanting ceased and her body heaved in the weight of what she'd done. Light exploded from the shadows of her golden blood circle and a small army of faeries appeared.

Amren collapsed.

* * *

Aelin was leaning heavily on Rowan, still in his embrace, when the world turned upside down. Of course the sweet relief of victory wouldn't even last a minute before a new enemy had found them. The sun was gone, replacing it was a cramped ceiling with starlight shining from the windows. She stood on fine marble floors covered in…

Wyrdmarks.

And was that… golden blood?

She pulled back from Rowan, but couldn't get too far from his steel grip as he assessed the threat, refusing to separate from her until he felt it was safe. Around her were the others; Aedion and Dorian were stepping closer together with Lysandra not far off. Gavriel and Fenrys had found Lorcan who'd managed to become apart of this somehow. Manon was the first to move, walking straight and steady up to a small girl with dark hair and dark eyes at Lorcan's side.

At this point the threat that Manon posed was undecided, but judging from Lorcan's snarl, he wouldn't let the witch harm the girl with him. For a second, Aelin saw tears well in the young girl's eyes before her attention was drawn elsewhere.

It seemed they were in an apartment, of all places, and outside the blood circle that surrounded her court were faeries she'd never seen before gathered in a Gods-damned kitchen. One of them was on the ground, covered in golden blood and not responding to the male tending to her. Standing between them and us were two faeries, a male and female.

The female was beautiful, even with her lip curling at the group. Her long, blonde hair draped over her shoulders in dramatic curls reminiscent of Lysandra's and she wore a dramatic gown of deep blue. The male next to her was a stark contrast in battle leathers. He was as tall as Rowan and ribbons of shadows swam in his presence. Dark magic.

"Care to explain?" To all of their surprise, Dorian was the first one to step toward them stopping as soon as his feet touched gold blood. His tone was practiced, light and diplomatic. He'd been trained for this - to be a king.

The shadowy male stared him down. All the fae in the room were stiff, the air suffocating.

 _What are they waiting for?_ Aelin thought.

Rowan answered. _Their leader._

Sure enough, the male tending to their downed friend called out with a wave of his hand and the female took his place with the wounded faerie, before he stood and stepped past the first male, walking right up to Dorian.

He was a glorious faerie, possibly the most beautiful fae Aelin had ever seen. His hair was black as raven's feathers and his eyes were so deep blue, they became violet. Instead of shadows, tendrils of star-kissed night flowed in his wake. He was a being made of the night itself.

"I apologize," he said, looking to Dorian. "My second seems to have summoned you all." He cocked his head as if interdimensional mistakes happened to him every day. Sliding his hands in his pockets, he surveyed the gathered faeries. His eyes met Rowan's. Aelin growled and the male grinned. "I will also apologize that I cannot return you to wherever you came from until she awakens. None of us know her magic."

"Bullshit," Aedion said, stepping to Aelin's free side across from Rowan.

The night fae's grin grew. "No, actually it's true," he mused. "You are all welcome to stay until then. Judging by your attire, you weren't exactly expecting her summons, I presume."

"Not quite," Dorian said.

"Ah, well. My name is Rhysand," he purred. "And I am the High Lord of the Night Court. Welcome to my lands." He extended a hand.

Though Dorian took it, not a fae in the room dared breathe. This Rhysand was too calm, too welcoming. Every alarm bell in her screamed this was a trap.

"Dorian Havilliard, King of Adarlan." Aelin blinked, realizing it was the first time he'd referred to himself as such after the destruction of the glass castle.

Surely these Night Court fae weren't planning an attack on them - it was three against ten. Even if just half of them fought they should be able to overpower them. Still, Aelin had been caught in many traps in her life. She scanned for the exits she knew Rowan would have already found.

"There is no trap here," Rhysand said.

Aelin's glared at the male and Rowan stiffened. Surely he was just trying to ease the tension. Surely he couldn't have read her thoughts. Lorcan was growing restless off to her left with Gavriel and Fenrys looking to him. But gone was their bloodlust, demanded of them by Maeve, and in its place stood respect. Like they were looking to their general once more. What if Maeve's blood oaths didn't carry through to this world?

"Where are we?" she asked and for the first time his eyes, like endless pools of the night sky landed on hers.

He pulled a hand from his pocket and waved it as he spoke. "The Night Court."

"Never heard of it," Fenrys challenged.

"Well, it's a great big world isn't it?" Rhysand replied. Gavriel straightened, ready to step to the cocky fae.

"Why, might I ask," Dorian said, "are you offering shelter to ten strange fae, all worn in battle clothes obviously fresh from a fight? Do you trust us that much or do you believe yourself strong enough to handle us all?"

He looked back to Aelin. She stood her ground, but hoped this wouldn't come to conflict. She didn't have enough magic left after the slaughter in retrieving the mirror. "It is not you whom I trust, but my court. Amren is my second. She would not have cast such a large and dangerous summons without notifying me unless it was so necessary she was willing to give her life for it."

Aelin looked to the small body of the fae on the floor behind him, hoping, she realized, to see her chest rise and fall. A glance at the scar on her hand was enough to lead her to believe him. Rowen gave her a swift squeeze at her side.

We could take them. They are vastly outmatched. Even with just Dorian, you, and I we could beat them, let alone if Lorcan and the others help.

For some reason, Aelin wasn't so sure. No. We have the advantage in numbers, but we are drained of magic. Let's bide our time with them. I want to know why she brought us here.

He didn't respond.

"Unless you can all fly, we'll have to winnow to my castle…" the dark lord seemed to muse to himself.

The blonde female gave him a cursory look.

"Winnow?" Dorian asked.

The female at Rhysand's side suddenly disappeared, a dark screech all that was left behind. Dorian turned to look at Aedion when she reappeared in his face. Manon took a step from Lorcan and his girl.

"This is winnowing," she said. "We can bring you all with us, but we will probably have to make multiple trips."

Out of the corner of his eye, Dorian looked over to Aelin and Rowan. Aelin watched the silver haired fae at her side give the young king a quick nod and when she turned back Rhysand was watching.

"Okay," Dorian agreed. "Let's go then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Okay, so this is brief and a setup chapter cause dang guys, it's super hard to write with SO MANY HUGE CHARACTERS! SO MANY PROPS TO OUR QUEEN SARAH J MAAS. I went back and fixed/changed a few things in the first chapter, so it would be worth rereading in my opinion. I am happier with this chapter than the last one, despite its shortness.**

 **To answer a few questions: Feyre is at the Spring Court (and soon some of our other beloved will join her...). As for Rowaelin, they have erm, bow chicka wow wow'd, after the whole Rolfe's bay thing when Amren was Deanna, and (sorry I didn't write this part clearly AT ALL) when she summoned them from their universe, they were further along in the story to where Aelin destroyed the Valg? creatures? was that what they were? while getting the lock/mirror so that Lorcan and Elide were there. Also Manorian...yeah let's just say she's met his other hands already. ~~~~ PLS KEEP THE QUESTIONS COMING! REVIEW MY LOVELIES! xoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

* * *

The Night Court was beautiful. They were brought through the disorienting ripples of winnowing into a great hall of seamless marble. Despite the massive snowy mountain peaks outside, there were no enclosures on the doors or windows. An unnatural wind blew at the sheer gossamer curtains of deep purple that lined the openings to the near-tundra outside.

Dorian had volunteered to be transported first. Thankfully, Aedion and Lysandra stepped up to his side. Aelin's court was a powerful one, not merely in their magic or brute strength, but in their strength of heart. The Queen of Terrasen had really pulled together a brilliant team. He thought of his own court, so far only Chaol and Nesryn, down in the southern continent searching for Chaol's healing. They'd come so far, he and his old friend. His best friend. From sparing as boys, to silently fighting over Aelin, to this. They'd been separated more than he liked lately and suddenly wished to see him winnow in beside him. He'd know what to do in this kind of situation.

Nevermind the four legendary fae warriors who'd been with him, older than centuries, their whole lives spent on a battlefield.

Dorian sighed. As soon as the blonde stranger had dropped them off here, she'd disappeared again leaving behind an enchanted wisp of shadowy night, stars and all.

"What do you think they're planning?" Aedion asked him. The prince had to place a hand on his shoulder, and Lysandra locked elbows with Aedion, so that they could all be teleported together. The demi fae slid away from the touch now, but Lysandra kept her arm with Aedion's.

"I don't know," Dorian admitted.

Aedion's lip curled. "Well, I don't like this."

Before Dorian could reply, the others appeared at once. The blonde who'd brought them had a hand on Aelin's shoulder, her silver haired blood sworn palpably bristled beside her, his arm still wrapped around her. Dorian thought back to Rolfe's bay, when Aelin had been consumed by her power and only Rowan stepping in her way had pulled her back into her body.

His eyes drifted to Manon, who gripped hands with a dark haired girl and who he assumed to be Lorcan, judging by his towering height. He radiated darkness, but it was a stark difference between their transporter and his waves of night that slowly fell away from him until he started to look normal. Gavriel and Fenrys were at Rhysand's other side, both more tense than Dorian had ever seen. Gavriel's eyes darted around the room, always landing on Aedion more than the rest of them while Fenrys looked to Aelin and Rowan steadily, as if waiting for orders.

"Well, now that we're all here I'll show you your rooms," the High Lord of the Night Court said, strolling away from the cadre. Apparently the third of their group was staying behind with their fallen. Rhysand's casual steps clicked on the marble floor. "Sadly, there are only five rooms here as I've never had so many guests in my personal quarters," he continued, pausing toward an archway waiting for them to follow. No one moved.

"Why must we stay in your personal quarters?" Gavriel asked and Dorian couldn't help but hope for an offer to stay elsewhere.

Rhysand looked to the human mountain cat with a sharp glance. Dorian wondered if the High Lord would be bothered by the idea of his animal form - or if perhaps Rhysand had his own. "Because anywhere else in this mountain would be full of a different kind of court. One that wouldn't feel kindly to such a large group of strange fae with such strength and magic."

Dorian didn't dare look around the room at his friends, instead kept his magic at the ready before he said, "Fine, then, we'll come." And he hoped no one would argue.

They didn't, though there were a few audible grumbles through his company.

They trekked down midnight marble steps. Rhysand led him into a cavernous hallway, there was a doorway to his right and in the distance he could see another as the hall wrapped around the side of the mountain.

"There's plenty of space between them,and they're sound proof," the raven haired male declared to them all. "Just in case any of you needed to know." He tried to give them a quirky smile, but no one responded. They were all so on edge. Dorian could feel their tension mixed with the magic of the Night Court in the air. "We'll all gather for dinner tonight. Then maybe we can really get to know each other."

Dorian nodded before someone else offered a vulgar gesture.

"Alright then," Rhysand clapped his hands together. "I'll be around if you need anything."

He'll be around to make sure none of them leave or rebel against him, more like it.

After he disappeared, the cadre members pulled together, Aelin stepping to Dorian's side. "What do you think?" she asked him.

"I'm not sure what to think. I guess we just have to wait and see where this is leading."

"I hope there's a spa tub in these rooms," she smiled and Dorian shook his head. She walked away, towards Rowan and his friends, if you could call them that, and approached the dark haired girl. Dorian had thought to follow, but when Aelin held a sudden, shuddering hand to her lips before pulling the girl into a sweeping embrace he'd decided they needed space. He walked further into the track of marble. The next door was so far away. For there to be only five rooms here they had to be luxuriously large, wrapping nearly completely around the mountain's edge. He leaned against a marble wall, imagining what was beyond this mountain castle.

Aelin and Rowan found him there minutes later, Aedion and Lysandra were at their side.

"We're going to split into rooms and go to this dinner," Aelin said, Rowan close at her back. "Fenrys and Gavriel have already started down the hall to the furthest room with Lorcan and Elide behind them for the next one. Rowan and I are taking this one, closest to the stairs to keep guard." Aedion started to object, but Aelin cut him off, continuing. "Aedion and Lysandra will take the room next to us."

Leaving Dorian in the center room with Manon. He thought to get angry with them for leaving him without a choice, but he'd probably have ended up with Manon either way.

He nodded to her.

"We're going to try to meet before Rhysand can come back, but we don't exactly know when that will be, so we'll play it by ear," she finished.

"Everyone is to be prepping their magic," Rowan added.

Dorian, Aedion, and Lysandra gave curt nods before they all walked off to find their rooms.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I have finally started saying Reese-and instead of Rice-and. GO ME.**

* * *

They weren't given enough time to gather for a meeting before dinner, but Aelin didn't mind too much since the first thing she'd done in her and Rowan's suite was leap into the warm swimming pool of a bath that hung over the edge of the mountain. She'd found lavender and jasmine bath soaps and made sure Rowan used them too. Something about this place made her want to know they shared as much of a scent as possible.

Despite Dorian's leadership, Rhysand could see the presence that she and Rowan held in the midst of their companions. It was unsettling.

Everything about Rhysand was unsettling: the way he invited the potential enemy warriors into his home, the way he never once looked threatened by the ten - _ten_ \- of them, even the way he walked, always casually strolling along despite the danger they could impose on him.

It riled Aelin up.

Rowan was wary, too. He'd kept quiet around the dark lord, even now as they sat directly across from each other at the large formal dining table. It's black quartz gleamed in the starlight pooling in through the gossamer lain windows. Meats and vegetables, potatoes and breads, and even a large bowl of fruit littered the expansive slab. Only Rhysand and his comrades had begun building their plates.

There was a new male at the table. His tanned skin mirrored the other two's, but his dark hair fell loose at his shoulders. He sat at Rhysand's right hand, across from the female from earlier, the last male beside her.

"I know you're all hungry," Rhysand said, piercing the pregnant silence.

He was right. Aelin felt the desperate need to fill her stomach, and caved. She reached with her hands, scooping piles of everything in sight onto her now overflowing plate. Rowan smiled and followed suit, opting for utensils. Then the others joined in one by one. Even Manon tore off the leg of a once feathered beast at the center of the buffet.

"Now, then," Rhysand started. "I won't waste any of your time." Aedion snorted from his seat at Rowan's right, across from Aelin. Rhysand didn't acknowledge him as he continued. "I must presume that my second called your group here in the hopes of an alliance."

"Kidnap is hardly a way to gain allies," Lysandra spoke up for the first time since arriving at the Night Court. She was the only one of the group who had opted to change into their style of clothing, which had been left in each of their bedrooms. Soft sea foam fell across her shoulders landing just above her navel, the color continuing in the loose fitting pants. Lysandra was always aware of the game of power, always willing to test the limits of others. Aelin admired the shape shifter's chosen red hair and green eyes from the next seat over.

"I apologize for the poor impression," Rhysand purred to the red head. "You may choose to refuse us and you will be left to your own devices until you can be returned home."

Every set of eyes at the table were cold, calculating.

Fenrys and Lorcan were stiff in their strange, nearly backless chairs. They were seated beside the others. Centuries of training from both sides clashed in quiet preparation for when things would inevitably go wrong.

"And what use would your alliance be to us, High Lord?" Dorian asked, delicately puncturing a sprig with his fork.

A wicked smile stretched on the dark lord's face. Aelin dropped her piece of fruit, ready to leap across the table. Fire burned at her fingertips. She knew this was a trap. Her court and its followers ceased their own dining as well. Rhysand's grin only grew at their attention.

"Well, simply put, you'd have me," his voice was a caress that slid and slurped down the table through each of their ears.

Aelin slammed a fist on the smooth stone table. "That's enough of your games. Make your motives clear before we start to burn your city down," she spat. A low growl rolled through Rowan in agreement.

"Oh, I don't doubt you, Aelin of the Wildfire."

Rowan was on his feet and across the room before anyone could blink, but the moment his fist wrapped around the High Lord's neck, his pine green eyes paled. They grew heavy as the rest of his body seemed to. He lowered his hand from Rhysand's throat as if it weighed tons. With cruel slowness, he turned and Aelin sat in silent fury as he walked back to his seat. He was not himself - not Rowan Whitethorn - his eyes were not his eyes. Then Aelin felt the fear that Rowan must have felt when Deanna had seized her body.

The fear of losing him.

She felt the gold rim of her eyes turn to blaze.

When Rowan sat, his eyes snapped back to normal and a bloodthirsty snarl wrapped around his features.

"Don't worry - I do not intend to harm you or your mate, Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Mora's blood."

Mate. He said mate.

She refused to glance back at Rowan upon the word. Blue flame lit at Aelin's feet, rolling out over the marble floor until it covered the room and began to rise, not yet burning what it touched.

"You asked what our alliance would be worth to you, and I gave you the answer. You'd have me," Rhysand explained.

"You can control minds," Rowan said through his teeth, blue fire snaking up his ankles.

"He can do so much more than that," the long haired Night Court denizen said.

"So what is one extra fae with magic? We have plenty of magic already." Aedion bit back feeling the power of the fire growing at his feet.

"Now, now," Rhysand hushed his right hand before he snapped back at the blonde male. "It's only fair we show them what they're getting into. We were the ones who brought them here, and I admit I've done a teensy bit of prying…" he trailed off.

Manon hissed, her first sound tonight.

The fire smoldered turquoise, rising into the laps of each patron. To their credit, none of the Night Court fae even so much as flinched. Aelin turned up the heat.

And then their ceiling was suddenly gone, replaced by a brilliant night sky. An other-worldly cold dripped from its endless dark. Lorcan was the first to notice it, reaching an idle hand out to grip the back of Elide's chair. His lips curled showing his teeth and the others took notice.

At first Aelin thought he'd removed the ceiling, but then the night began to move above them the twinkles of stars suddenly seeming more like millions of tiny daggers above their heads. Then, it fell.

Night surrounded them. The fire instantly put out beneath them. Aelin resisted the urge to reach for her neck. The oxygen… it was gone…

And then they were back. The table was in front of them once again, their food right where they'd left it. The tense energy of edgy magic coated the now returned air in the room.

Aelin's fire had been extinguished.

She was fuming. Granted, that was less than a drop of her power, but no one had every extinguished her flame. Not since she had no control over it. Not since she first met Rowan.

"My Inner Circle would serve you well, Queen of Terrasen," Rhysand offered, his eyes set on Aelin. "Anytime you called upon us, we would all stand with you."

It was hard for her to think beyond the statement he'd made in quelling her fire, but she needed allies against Erawan - against Maeve - to stand for Terrasen, to prove she had never forgotten her people.

"And what do you expect of us in return?" she asked. She felt Aedion's incredulous eyes fall upon her. Elide had sunken in her seat a little and Manon checked on her between appearing involved in the conversation. Gavriel was looking between them both while Fenrys stared at her. Rowan was a comforting force at her side, his magic furious. Dorian sat up straight, actively listening, and the only one still sneaking bites of food as he watched the powers at be.

Rhysand looked to his comrades briefly before turning back to Aelin and her court. "We are anticipating war as well, though we hope to avoid it coming to that."

"Why should I waste my energy in your war when I have my own to prepare for?" Aelin countered, refusing to speak for the rest of her friends.

"Because there is another of us who would prove extremely valuable in your fight who is currently behind enemy lines."

Aelin cocked her head. "And if they are so valuable to me, why can't they escape without my help?"

For the first time, Rhysand lost his blase charm. His face hardened and his eyes looked between Aelin and Rowan, his brow creased and fell. "She is protecting me from them," he said, his voice falling to a solemn whisper. "My mate is protecting all of the Night Court by offering herself instead."

Lysandra crumpled her napkin in her lap and Manon played with her retractable iron nails.

The pain in the dark lord's eyes reminded Aelin of just moments ago when she'd looked at Rowan, walking back to his chair, lost to her. Unreachable. She took a steadying breath and looked to Rhysand. "And you want us to retrieve her?"

"Our High Lady intends to spy on them, which she will do," he said, his tone lightening as he returned to himself. "My wish is for her to have friends inside to help her accomplish her task and see to it that she has backup for her return home along with any potential… conflicts."

A light breeze kissed her face before she replied, "Very well, then. I shall assist you upon the terms of your alliance with Terrasen. However, none of my court or present company are required to offer you aid or participate in this rescue."

Rhysand smiled. "If I assume correctly that your friends will all respect my home and my country, then I am in agreement."

Aelin only offered a stiff nod as her counterparts watched.

"Now that that's over," Rhysand beamed, as if his earlier pleasantness was only a taste of his buoyancy. "I'm pleased to introduce you to my court: This is Cassian," he gestured to his right, "the general of my armies." The long haired fae shot them all a cocky grin. "And you've met my cousin, Morrigan." He looked to the female on his left and she rolled her eyes.

"You can all call me Mor," she said.

"She is my third in command and controls most of the going's on around here." He scooped up a bite of cooked potato, plopping it in his mouth before continuing. "Then there is Azriel. He is what you call a Shadow Singer."

And sure enough it was as if he were cloaked in shadows, not like the night that sometimes slid from Rhysand's movements. It was like he was birthed from shadow itself. Aelin considered the similarities between he and Lorcan, though perhaps Lorcan was merely born from Hellas - death - itself.

"My second in command is Amren. She's the one who summoned you. We have her resting safely elsewhere and will notify you immediately when she is able bodied again. You're free to seek proof of her condition so that your travel back to your dimension will be secure." He finished with all the flare chewing with your mouth full could provide.

"You need no introduction from us," Aedion said, "when you can rifle through our minds anytime you please."

Rhysand held his smile firm. "While that is true, I typically choose not to use that power unless it serves my people to do so. I know only Aelin and Rowan through searching specifically for their identities. Though I respect you, Dorian Havilliard, King of Adarlan, I could sense there were other levels of leadership going on in your circle. As for the rest of you, I do not know your names, though I recognize you as fae," he inclined his head to Gavriel, Fenrys, and Lorcan, "and you as a creature I've yet to have encountered," he raised his eyebrows in Manon's direction, "I know nothing else. And neither does any of my circle."

Aelin leaned back in her armless chair. "Rowan is my bloodsworn. This is Aedion," she gestured across from her, "my cousin and the general of my armies. Lysandra," she looked to her left, "my right hand. And Elide is the newest member of my court and Lady of my house." Elide looked between Aelin and Rhysand on cue, mist building in her wide eyes. "As for the witch and the fae, they are in my company but not of my court. Their participation, even in giving their names, is beyond the loyalty of my name."

"Mhm," Rhysand mumbled, looking to the new fae faces seated around him. "Will any of you be accompanying the queen into enemy territory?"

Gavriel looked to Aedion. "I will," he said gruffly.

"Your name, friend?" Rhysand asked.

"Gavriel."

Rhysand only nodded.

Lorcan still had his arm on the back of Elide's chair, his grip tight. He gave a low growl before offering his name like a sound off.

Fenrys followed.

"Well, witch? What say you?" Rhysand asked.

"Bite me," she spat.

Rhysand grinned anyway, apparently accepting any reply at all to be acceptance. "Then we'll start the planning tomorrow after we train."

"Training?" Fenrys asked, placing his hands flat on the table. Aelin looked around the table and wondered when was the last time someone like Rowan or Lorcan had been forced to train beneath someone else. Something about switching the role on her mate brought a smile to her lips.

Her mate. The word still struck her insides like lightning. She wondered if Rowan would mention it when they returned to their rooms.

"Yes, well, I can teach you to shield your minds from gifts like mine. Then you won't have to worry about me invading your heads. Not to mention I'm sure there are plenty of techniques to be shared between allies."

He said the word as bait - to see if anyone would oppose the idea, the arrangement. No one did. The fractioned cadre looked to Rowan who gave a swift unnoticeable nod.

"Sounds excellent," Aelin answered and then tore into her food, declaring the conversation over.


End file.
